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concentration on their roles, but the one called Jacko was downright insulting. |
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Besides, she needed to pause and understand what had happened. |
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She placed her hand against the uneven stone wall of the Blockhouse for support. It felt cool, easing the unbearable heat she had felt. Looking around, she noticed that the wrought-iron fence was gone. |
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She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Well, of course it was gone. It had been removed for the filming. |
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Opening her eyes again, she looked around to see what other changes had been made. |
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That was when she noticed her own clothing: a long gown of a wrinkled cotton material, in the pink shade of cherry blossoms. |
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No wonder she felt warm; she was covered from head to toe in clothing despite the blazing summer heat. |
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How had she changed clothes? |
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An uneasy tingling began at the nape of her neck. Something was terribly wrong. Time had passed that she could not recall. |
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What was the last thing she could remember? |
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There had been no nasality to it then. It had sounded like the voice in her dreams, hoarse, sure and demanding. "You must right a grievous wrong . . . my daughter." |
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His daughter? Where had that come from? Where had any of that haunting command come from? |
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More notes sounded from a bugle in the distance. That had been what had awakened Mariah. |
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"Come along," said Milson to his cohort. "No more dallying here. The sergeant's displeasure with you needs no more call to increase." |
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"And my displeasure with our esteemed sergeant as well." But Jacko turned to go. |
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Milson, touching the brim of his hat, cast a worried look toward Mariah. "I have heard that a physician is passing through Pittsborough, miss," he said over his shoulder as he followed his friend. "Perhaps you should call on him." |
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