He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. But that possibility had been anticipated. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. She looked away.
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