"Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. “My Mom was a good lady. You sent back my Christmas checks. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. He felt himself collapse heavily onto her naked body, still inside her. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. "Oh!" she gasped. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not.
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