She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. She was, she guessed, close to the library. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor commiseration. It's almost incredible. ’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. “Too greasy for me.
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