She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. Like carpenter, like chips. His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse.
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