She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. Manning, with a sweep of the arm. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt.
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