The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. The performance over, he relaxed and closed his eyes. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally.
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