"I likes to hear vot you says. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. ‘Possibly,’ he said. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. He saw now that it was merely a boy. Then he got up and left her. "Leave me alone with him a moment," said Jonathan.
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