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. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. ” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. ” She groaned aloud and bowed her forehead to her knees. Three times she escaped.
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