She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. Last night there had been no time. Your maid has twenty minutes to pack your dressing case for one night, and you have the same time to change into a travelling dress. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. Only an undermaid I was then. We simply can’t get away. He flipped the television on. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied.
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