Eliza sits up in bed. She is usually a sound sleeper, but tonight – She hopes her restlessness does not disturb Clorinda, sweetly slumbering in the other bed. She looks over to the carefully braided golden curls on the pillow. Surely she should be tired, after that fine long walk with the Samuels? Perchance – perchance ‘tis just that she misses Josiah, most especially now their conjugal pleasures are restored? Clorinda stirs, murmurs something in her sleep, turns over, disarranging her bedclothes. Eliza jumps up to pull them over her again, and finds her hand hovering, not quite touching a bare shoulder.
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