” “I think, Mr. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. His movements became quicker, and she made grinding motions with her hips that began to please her as well. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning.
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