‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. ’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. “In all fairness,” she thought to herself as she coaxed his mouth toward her left nipple. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. If only this man had been her father! The world would have meant nothing; the island would have been wide enough.
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