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Her chin lifted She looked over at Clero inside As if she were daring hih, and if she occasionally rubbed her hips when she thought nobody was looking, or shifted froo feel worse about what he was doing
On the second day, she arrived an hour earlier, while the streetlamps were still lit She strode sedately toward the bench--and stopped abruptly
Hugo had anticipated her early arrival, of course, and he’d offered the pensioners seven shillings for that extra hour Once again, she stayed standing on her feet for nine straight hours--disappearing only, he supposed, to use the necessary Once again, he found hi her obstinacy
On the third day, it rained The rain fell in great gusting torrents, and the pensioners couldn’t be had Still, Hugo ed to round up a few laborers dressed in mackintosh--and scarcely in time They had just settled in when Miss Barton arrived She athed in a cloak of dark wool, one that covered her gown He couldn’t see her hair, couldn’t see her hands
After an hour, her uer repelled water; she abandoned it next to a tree But she didn’t let the wet stop her She scarcely looked at the bench Instead, she stood next to a tree, her lips set in gri Midday, he stopped work for a bowl of soup She was still there; he ate, standing at the atching as she pulled her ar to stay war leaves about; it had to be bitter cold Noon turned to one o’clock, and then two She hadn’t left when the clock in the hall chih her cloak had turned dark with rain She huddled in on herself one hon of inclement weather He wasn’t sure if he should applaud her tenacity or rage at how impossible she’d made the situation Down in the square, she swiped a hand over her face, brushing away rainwater
This was so to have to fix, if for no other reason than that he didn’t want her life on his head
BEFORE SERENA’S CLOAK soaked through, it hadn’t been so bad She’d been da in disguise; she’d been able to war
By the tih, she could scarcely feel her feet Her hands were frozen inside her gloves
Go home It’s only one afternoon
It wasn’t loud, that impulse Just insidious She’d heard it too often Keep quiet now, and you’ll be taken care of Don’t screah But that voice was a lie Those who did nothing lost There was nothing so cold as regret
If she walked away now, Mr Marshall would know that he could drive her away It would just spur hiether and paced
Nobody was out unless he had to be And so that hen a figure came around the corner, she turned to look--and then froze It was Mr Marshall--the Wolf of Clerrim He had a bundle under his arlanced down the street and crossed quickly
He walked right past her without saying a word, and instead led to see the Wolf of Clermont in him when he’d confessed his identity three days past, but in that instant, she saw it His ordinariness was an illusion, a cloak of normalcy that he donned for politeness’s sake Now, he projected a quiether hand to her throat, even though his ire wasn’t directed at her He fixed the men on the bench with a look
"Well?" he asked "Get out of here"
"But--" said one
"You heard what I said It’s over I have no ave his head a little jerk