“I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. "Put your arms about me.
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