” She replied. She is no longer mine; she is yours. It’s John. . ‘Yes, for there were too many females for the vicomte to make me a dowry. I seek chaos, but not out of choice. She leaned back as he climbed on top of her and kissed her mouth again. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms.
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