He pulsed and thrust as he released himself into her body. They had got all this down already—they heard the substance of it now for the fourteenth time. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. Some of your sex, I mean. A shout was heard at a little distance, and, the next moment, a person rushed with breathless haste to the stair-head. She turned there and beckoned.
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