Sheppard from his elevated position. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. “Are you sick, Michelle? Maybe you should have stayed home. Her patience was waning fast. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition. We close the chapter. You seem altogether altered, too.
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