.. but now she merely regarded him as a piece of distasteful male flesh she had to serve.That, it seemed, had developed into being her function in lif....Of course, she still hated him, But it was not that initial, wild uncontrolled hate. It was continuous, low slowburning hate. Something she would learn to exist with.Miss Judith unchained her charge. She was well content with her work. Quentin Osman would be both amazed and delighted, she was sure. The conversation of haughty Julia Chant to. Movement. She moves as quickly as she can. The night is growing darker. The cool breeze is now an icy wind. The light ahead propels her forward. A vaporizing mist caresses her face. Yes, there’s something there. Slowly creeping through the trees, she carefully looks into what appears to be a small campsite lining an old cave. A warm fire dances freely among a circle of stones. Over the flames, a black iron pot steams. Nearby, a collection of furs is spread on the ground, cushioning a broad. More

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