He gripped one of her pert nipples with his fingers as he came inside her. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. D. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. Twenty-one, twenty-two. You just married her.
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