She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. She could not run, her limbs were frozen. " "You did not hear her when she spoke to her father; I did. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one. “I am happy.
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