“I knew you would feel it,” said Miss Miniver, as they came away flushed and heated. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. She resolved not to allow him or her hunger detract from the performance at hand, as it would be a special one, an evening to be remembered in the gray days to follow like a precious jewel. It has. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was stretched forth to save him. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain.
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