He drove her to the Beck house, pulling up behind Cathy's red Nissan. Or felt it. "The part was crooked," she explained. He kissed her neck, moving down to her breasts, trying to consume her with passion. No! That was impossible. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the subject. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be.
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