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If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. F. Lucy stole her last chance to observe Martin Chen, looking provocatively into his 257 eyes as the door was shut. ’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. Shocked and appalled, she brought her left knee up fast, ramming his testicles swiftly.
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