‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. \" He mumbled, his eyes on her breasts. " Ruth spread out the ruffled skirt, sundrily torn and soiled. My husband, he is cruel and wicked, and—and entirely undistinguished. "She considers her future blasted beyond hope. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe.
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