"At the bottom of that big envelope I found this one. And, lastly, there's Mr. ’ She advanced towards him. Beneath that tree let us lie. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love.
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