” “In his present mood,” Anna remarked, “he would follow me. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. ” Anna hesitated no longer. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. His hands came up, his face broke apart. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping.
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