Maybe it’s his loss. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision.
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