I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you.
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