When were you last confessed, Sir Rowland?" he added abruptly. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. .
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