Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. He sent me flowers. By various twistings and turnings, during all which time his pursuers, who were greatly increased in numbers, kept him in view, he reached Gray's-Inn-lane. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. ” “That’s why, in a way, I’m prudish. He chuckled.
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