If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind.
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