’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. McClintock says they can't get in there, or at least they never try it. He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. Full as she was of him, it felt good to shower her kill out of her hair. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat.
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