[Septimus by William J. Locke]@TWC D-Link book
Septimus

CHAPTER IX
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She was making straight for the pond.

He hastened his pace, came up within a few yards of her and then stopped dead.

It was Emmy.

He recognized the zibeline toque and coat edged with the same fur which she often wore.

She carried something in her hand, he could not tell what.
She went on, unconscious of his nearness.


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