“I want to know who you are. I always fall on my feet, you know. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. An uncomfortable silence followed. ‘That’s wicked, that is.
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