” Miss Pellissier was beginning to recover herself. She must learn wisdom—as God pleases. She felt sharp animal teeth pierce her above her shoulder. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage.
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