” “Please get off at the next exit. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. He lowered himself on to her.
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