She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. 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. " "You had better write them for me, Mr.
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