“How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. And I guessed you would attack if I startled you. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. She had fallen asleep. Wild. His manner was deferential, even eager. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. I’m glad I did. ” Ann Veronica said nothing. " "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. Light the lantern. She kissed his neck and licked him there. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself.
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