My mother remarked that she was the most trust-worthy servant she ever had; but that there was a mystery about her. Her boxes were labelled for a plac... that the coach would not take her to, and her boxes were not like a servant’s. “I think she has been crossed in love and ran away,” said mother. Said I, “Perhaps she had gone off with a bobby,” it was a current joke then, policemen not having been long invented. My mother said in her severe way, “She is a virtuous woman, a youth like you should. But this wasn’t a wall because the wall brought its enormous hands up to steady her. She opened her eyes and realized she was looking down. She saw a pair of huge ratty old work boots, and some jeans that had seen too many days of work with there oil stains and small holes. Then her eyes traveled up and she saw an old Trimbridge football t-shirt with the sleeves torn off, some long, dark, muscular arms, and the face of a god. His face was as dark as his sun tanned skin and glowed as well, his. More

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