His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. She felt his tongue press into her mouth.
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