Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on.
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