But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. Let’s go on climbing now. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone.
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