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Smorgy quickly ran back to the hole, undid my half-baked effort at concealing our
entry point and then retied the metal. With the hole now hidden, she returned to
the car to get a book, and wait it out in the overgrown airing courts of Hellingly.
After many false starts, we were soon in the Main Hall, and admiring the lost and battered
Victorian architecture. The curved ceiling featured ornate plasterwork and the remnants of spidery lights.
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