G. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt. Sheppard, who witnessed this occurrence with dismay, looked timorously at Wood, in expectation of some hint being given as to the course she had better pursue; but, receiving none, for the carpenter was too much agitated to attend to her, she ventured to express a fear that she was intruding. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. The knife is at my breast. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house.
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