He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. I do not wish for you to see me feed. He drew a little breath of relief.
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