She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. I understand. Oh, John. It’s these damned novels. Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of wedlock were necessary. Not fit to be dust on your boots.
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