And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth. ” “You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. You’ve got me. She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention.
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