Desperate Questions

"Wait!" Margot shouted after the old coachman. She brushed a layer of dirt from her apron and caught up with him. "I suspect you have been employed here for some time now... at least longer than me."

She stole another glance at the pond before continuing. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that pond-- especially that little tomb on that center island-- would you? You see, ever since I got here, it has been on my mind. I brought it up with Mr. Oberin once but he did not seem to want to discuss the matter any further."

The more she went on about it, the more frustration found her voice. "In fact, there doesn't seem to be a single soul in this manor who knows any more than I do. It-- It is torturous not knowing what lurks in the darkness of that miserable stone structure... But you... Surely there must be something you know and are willing to share." She looked at the man with wide, expecting eyes.

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