The policy of this step was immediately apparent. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. She thought of Capes. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge.
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