She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. Vorsack rose from the table and departed for the bathroom, mumbling something about a Tylenol. ‘You’re as mad as she is, Gerald. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. "And there you're right, you may dipind, marm," observed Terence.
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