Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. There was also the daunting task of getting dressed. He looked at his friend. Her parents totally look the other way.
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