‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. ‘But the fact remains that you should not have enjoyed it, you were quite right to threaten to kill me, and I— God help me!—should not have kissed you at all. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. The Bitchster strikes again. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard.
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