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They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight. 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. "He'll learn that his plans will be defeated. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. ” Annabel looked down. . ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed.
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