It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister.
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