“Maeve,” Abraxas came bursting into her bedroom, his voice casual. “Could you- oh dear what’s happened?” Abraxas stopped abruptly and looked about the room after seeing the distressed look on Maeve’s face. She stood in one of the large windows, looking grim. With one finger, she motioned for Abraxas and pointed down at the gardens. There was Ophelia and Mal, walking back towards the house. “That won’t do,” said Maeve. Abraxas clicked his tongue. “Poor girl,” he said darkly. “Fix my bowtie, will you?” Maeve sighed and assisted him. “Why is she even back here? They never come to these
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