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In February, I started work at Rauceby on my virtual asylum. Smorgy took a camcorder. We played with
angles, styles and locations. I practised my burgeoning presentation style. At least we’d try to get something
on film, but St. Crispin's was surely lost to us now.
Left: Western wards at St. Crispin. The light was finally dying at this point.
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