. 8. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure. She drew his penis out of the strange little vent in his boxer shorts. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night.
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