“Don’t be childish, Annabel. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. She slipped her hand between them and grasped his erection. Forgive me. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. The curtain rose out of the concluding bars of the overture and revealed Isolde on the prow of the barbaric ship. ‘She’s wearing a lightskirt’s clothing?’ ‘Nothing obviously so, I assure you.
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