The Times slipped from his fingers. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. It's my way when I'm ruffled. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. More importantly, she had her wits.
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