She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. It doesn’t matter. ‘Not if I heard him aright. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. It was no marriage at all. She wrapped her legs about his hips as he raised himself upon straight arms, piercing her with his gaze as he thrust into her.
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