“Did it seem like I was in pain to you?” She smirked. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. But he tells them that I am a spy. Rummage, my boy, do. He moaned in excitement as his lips wrapped around the peak of her right breast. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company.
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