He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. And you need not fear that I shall not give back the sword when I have finished using it. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. I was the last on board.
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