“It spreads like wildfire. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. The doctor had sown a seed, carelessly. "I'll have to set you right on that, too. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. “I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure.
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