He grunted, and his grip gave. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. “Did they ever try it for themselves?” He wrestled his chin between her thighs as she tried to squeeze her legs shut upon his ears. " "Very well, sir. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. "Keep a sharp look out, Bess. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor.
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