She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. " Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him.
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