“But I am your husband,” he said. . Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats.
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