The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. They almost made me feel like they were mine. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. "It is droll," he said.
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