She drove me. F. "How long shall I be here?" he asked. 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. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. I won't keep you long.
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