She did not have the power of men. He would pick a random member of the ever-shifting household for the sake of example. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. “Mere sensuality. ” She became aware of her aunt, through the panes of the greenhouse, advancing with an air of serene unconsciousness from among the raspberry canes. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound.
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