My heart cannot take it. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. 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. He was not a sailor. She had been obliged to wait all morning for the opportunity to talk to Martha, who chose always to retire to her cell for the period of recreation that preceded afternoon prayers. The report of his detention caused an immense sensation.
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