The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. ’ ‘Valade?’ ‘Aye, sir. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. I knew it. Her father had determined on a new line. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue.
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