Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. This man has an evil reputation. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. She wished that he would go further as she performed fellatio upon him. ‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly.
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