‘I’ll handle her better alone. . Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. They lived in a castle, the same place she had been turned in. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. One would say she could try to —to prevent that her daughter will go to the convent. But never mind that. God had never answered any of her prayers. Bon.
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