He wriggled underneath her heaving body, pinned like an insect. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. A check arrives in Batavia every three months. . Thankfully only the children were home, so there was no one to take active notice that she had been accompanied on her way home from school. Along the floor ran an iron bar to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he could move along it from one end of the chamber to the other. It was hot and dry. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. “Oh good. \"Yep. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air.
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