’ Lucilla sat up. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. Her disapproval was obvious enough. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. I told you no good would come of it. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard.
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