Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. " "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. His movements became quicker, and she made grinding motions with her hips that began to please her as well. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it.
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