She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. A fever of shame ran through her being. “There is this absurd craving for Mr. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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