Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. Not enough of them to make a difference. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. He had grabbed her in the stream, embracing her naked body tightly, running his hands over her breasts and clutching her buttocks. The sword, Jacques. A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror.
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