‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. And experience was slow in coming. She found a little difficulty in beginning.
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