To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. She stared. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. He seemed to be. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjIxNy4xMCAtIDEwLTA2LTIwMjQgMTQ6MjE6MDUgLSAxMDQwMTU3MjUx
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