The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. " "Horror!" cried Jack. A small voice greeted her, hissing. He drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down, terrified by the utter fallowness of his mind. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. “Very sexy.
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