The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. Farhat who was stranded on a desolate roadside until one fateful day he passed the traveling caravan of the beautiful princess Anoush.
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