"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. She cursed herself for a fool. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood.
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