His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. “I do,” he answered. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. But then he began to take steps, and, at last, strides to something more and more like predominance. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes.
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