CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered.
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