It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. ” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming.
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