" With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood's back, and, perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize it. "My father!" she whispered. It is not at all comme il faut. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back.
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