She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. ’ The breathy laugh came, and Madame Valade abandoned her fan. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. When she awoke, her husband held her hand as 31 Sebastianus urged her to drink weak wine. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled.
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