Chapter 11 No.11

I Fall a Willing Captive

The lady whose feet I had freed had risen so far as to rest crouching against the gnarled trunk of the maple tree. The glorious abundance of her hair she had shaken back, revealing a white face chiselled like a Madonna's, a mouth somewhat large, with lips curved passionately, and great sea-coloured eyes which gazed upon

            
            

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