"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. I’ve made up my mind. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. Rather would I have gone with Leonardo—and he wished me to do so. I can't give you my hand; but you may take it.
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