“Mary!” He whispered loudly. Miss Charvill. Her companion was a person of no inferior condition. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. He also had Janine’s daughter, Traci, who he just couldn’t leave alone after she reached puberty, when she grew a small set of underdeveloped breasts. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo.
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