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He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter.
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