“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. Anna, with her marvellous capacity for enjoyment, ate cakes and laughed, and forgot that she had had tea an hour or so ago at an A.
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