” He stroked her hand gently. Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. He was, however, instantly beaten back; and the fury of the mob was so great that it was with difficulty he could effect a retreat. With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day.
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