The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. He gripped one of her pert nipples with his fingers as he came inside her. Ah Coom. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. The completest capitulation would not wipe out that trouble. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless.
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