see her hesitating at the threshold as if she cannot bear to leave him, and I give her a smile, and I stretch out my hand and rest it lightly on her son's shoulder, a gentle proprietorial touch. "Good night, Lady Mother," I say. "Good night from us both." I let her see me take her son's fine linen collar in my fingers, the collar she embroidered herself in white-on-white embroidery, and I hold it as if it were the leash of a hunting dog who is wholly mine. For
( Philippa Gregory )
[ The White Princess ]
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