She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. ‘You obstinate little devil. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. \"Look at how fair he is! The Lord has blessed Isobella with a fine son. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety.
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