I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples.
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