She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. Gerald perhaps would know how to find him. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. She reeled in excitement, she unzipped his pants while kissing him, trying not to let herself stop touching him as she unclothed him. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. We’re closer than you think. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that.
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