Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. At the Palazzo she had been confined to her own sunny windowed quarters most of the time, but she had the entire run of the inside of the manor. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face. "I'll be their substitute. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. This time there wasn't any doubt. She reeled in excitement, she unzipped his pants while kissing him, trying not to let herself stop touching him as she unclothed him. The end of the world seemed at hand. Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. His perseverance was amply rewarded.
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