Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower. She let out a wail. The pleasure intensified quickly, it was as much control as she dared to lose as she heard herself calling his name with all her breath. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack.
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