Lucy went downstairs to prepare the hot cocoa that would be the last hot drink of the season, ruefully spiking the liquid with Nytol, just one tablet dissolved in a little warm water. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. There was no rush. It had neither succumbed to her nor wrathfully overwhelmed her. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony. Sheppard, with a frenzied laugh.
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