Don’t be late if you can help it. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. “Shit happens, John. . “How will you live?” she appealed. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt. ” She shook her head. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire.
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