Accepting his glass from the butler, Gerald glanced at Mrs Sindlesham and saw a dimple peep out. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history.
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