“Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded.
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