No, not one little bit. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. “Mr. ” Her father’s irony deepened. But, here they are. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. ‘This is not love, Marthe. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. ‘Comment? What do you wish?’ ‘What the devil do you think you’re up to now, I’d like to know?’ Her eyes flashed.
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