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192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. I was certain of it. She pushed between the pews, hoping to reach the sword first, while desperately holding on to her petticoats to keep them up, as her sword arm wavered. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness and desire. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. ” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. He deserves none.
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