" "The link of the chain next the staple is sawn through," said Ireton, stooping to examine Blueskin's fetters. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. Jonathan, however, was well acquainted with the road.
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