He began to tell me something—and stopped. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. " "Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently. I am the cause of his ill-usage. ” “Yes. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. 3. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. CHAPTER XIII.
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