He gripped one of her pert nipples with his fingers as he came inside her. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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