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“It was perhaps my fault. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. "I should never have been what I am, but for you. CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. And some were adorned with engravings that struck her as being more vulgar and undesirable than anything she had ever seen in her life.
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