She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. Be frank, I beg you, Miss Pellissier. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. ’ He called through the library door.
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