"I could not believe you capable of so foul a deed. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. You are the High Priestess of Life. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. Light the lantern.
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