Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. "I shall breathe more freely dere.
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