He rolled onto his belly, freeing himself from her hands, pushing her away. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. Manning and the men in “fixed” positions generally that she knew, Ramage, presented by himself, had a fine suggestion of freedom, of power, of deliberate and sustained adventure. But days had now passed. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked.
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