She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. His last actions were futile. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. "When I went through your trunk that first night, I discovered an envelope filled with manuscripts. “And let us have a talk about this—some other time. . ” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers.
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