She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. She learned that she could orgasm four or five times in a day as they toyed with each other and slept entire days afterward without feeling a single pang of guilt. He was snoring stupidly. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald. "If you'll write them, I'll illustrate them," observed Hogarth. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them. "As sure as one reasonably can be. Anna, you shall not go. She never forced the issue, it was their father’s job. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets.
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