“It makes me feel,” he said, “that nothing is impossible—to have you here beside me. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. ’ Relaxing back, Gerald folded his arms. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat.
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