Would it be willing? “Mary?” Florence whispered. “Yes, Miss?” Florence’s hand tightened on Mary’s wrist and she took a deep breath. The ...ime for words was over. She touched her hand to Mary’s face and pressed a kiss against her lips. Mary was unresponsive, but neither did she attempt to escape. Florence lifted her maid’s face and pressed a soft kiss against her chin, then another on each cheek and as Mary’s head dipped in supplication, one on her forehead. Mary’s body was thundering with. He was a lucky bastard, made good money off the sale of the home and land, had a generous pension from both the State and General Electric. He worked in the park selling programs before each home game for free, then would take a seat out in right field with the other G.E. pensioners, sipping on his one beer until the seventh inning stretch, when he would switch to something softer, the beer finished or not. ‘Yes, Pops. We swept them last week in Springfield. I don’t see how they can beat us in. More

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