He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Mrs. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it.
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