But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. He had grabbed her in the stream, embracing her naked body tightly, running his hands over her breasts and clutching her buttocks.
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