’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. “Yes, I know. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. \" She was surprised that he had noticed her existence as early as her arrival at the Beck house.
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