There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. For freedom at least. “But I am judge of that,” said Manning. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. Martin came to the door, looking radiant and relieved. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. “I can survive on my own. I know now what it is to be an abandoned female. He pushed her small hand into his jeans.
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