Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home.
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