‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library. But, no. Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife.
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