Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. Gosse sneered. He no longer made love to her, as there was no point. I can no longer bear to address you by that formal madame. ” He did not look at her.
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