But anything is better than this. ” He said. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had.
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