When mistress took and died—’ Joan broke off and sighed, moving away to the window. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. She still had her letter of credit.
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