‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. Like the flaws of an old marble. He lowered himself onto her and entered her slowly, an inch at a time.
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