She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. “Well?” she said. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. " "Please!" She dropped the curtains and the manuscripts, knelt and held out her arms. " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow.
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