” She felt his heart warming the small room like a radiator. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. "As I could wish!" cried Jonathan. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. And here against a wall were the plumtrees.
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