You care for me a little, I know. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. She undid his zipper and pulled his shorts down his hips. Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Had he not said so? Not that she wished him to marry her. .
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