"Because they're in the next room, and the door's shut; that's vy, my jack-adandy!" replied Abraham, unsuspiciously. He guided himself between her legs. She undid his zipper and pulled his shorts down his hips. She paused. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. ‘Oh, I don’t wish to marry you.
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