’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. I hated him. She was no longer certain that she desired an Englishman, if she must judge of one in particular. “As it is doubtful whether the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. Seeing from the threatening looks of his captors, that they were about to wreak their vengeance upon him, the miserable wretch besought mercy in abject terms, and charged his master with the most atrocious crimes. I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel. Too skilled to advertise their presence by a show of arms and men. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. “But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to.
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