Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. A tarnish of constraint that had recently spread over her intercourse with Capes vanished again. It was impossible to meet the motion bodily. ‘Monstrously unfair of you, Hilary. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. Shocked and appalled, she brought her left knee up fast, ramming his testicles swiftly. Winifred, you are deceived in me. When Mr.
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