“I couldn’t help it. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. And, thrusting a piece of iron into his mouth, he forced him out of the room. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague.
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