‘Mademoiselle. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables.
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