She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. . ” “Why did you tell me? I thought—I thought we were going to be friends. Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. ‘You have rifled his papers.
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