"Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it. “Yes, he made them all. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt.
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