" "I will obey you, master,—indeed I will!" implored Jack, seriously alarmed at the carpenter's calm displeasure. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. Those are all nice things, but it’s not what I want.
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