Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. I didn’t allow myself to see things as they were in those days; now I do. You know the danger of this breakneck road as well as I do.
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