CHAPTER IV. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. What more is there to be said? She defies me!” It was extraordinary. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
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