‘You are extremely empty-headed, Lucy. She touched his erect penis and delicately curled her fingers around it, moving her hand back and forth slowly and gently. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees.
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