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You must forgive the poet’s license I take. She wrapped her legs about his hips as he raised himself upon straight arms, piercing her with his gaze as he thrust into her. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. Horrid snorters! So long, Vee! Just suggested it. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. " "Your's will be nearer the truth, and have a deeper moral, Mr.
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