Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. I want to put myself into your hands. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. "All that you have been telling me, our old Kanaka cook summed up in a phrase. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly.
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