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JulieWhat a contretemps! I would if necessary, I told her, endeavour to convince her Papa that many girls in the first flush of desire were given to daydreams of this nature. “Will you be believed?” she asked somewhat pertly, while still wriggling her bottom, which I had but ten minutes before attended to. “As to that, who knows?” I answered, a little put out by her question, I confess, though seeing some merit in it. “If he does not?” she asked timidly. “Then, my pet, there is no path to follow but the one upon which I have already set your pretty feet,” I told her, which caused her to blush and gaze down into the carpet. “At the worst, my pet, your Papa can only birch you-which you do not now mind overmuch,” I said mischievously. “And at the best, Madam?” Was that a true question, I wondered, or was it that she did not know what to ask. “I have already answered that, my pet,” said I, expecting her (foolhardily!) to blush, but instead she took a set look on her face. “Then I would have to go back,” Sylvia said after a moments contemplation on her part, “And all will be known,” she added quickly ...» |
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