And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. ’ Lucilla frowned. Then there was also the horse. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. . ” She propped herself up on the massive oaken post of the bed, feeling the paralysis tingle her legs as it left them ever so slowly.
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