. She moaned as he buried himself completely to the hilt. Sniveling brats, little fatherless bastards, you should breathe a sigh of relief. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes.
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