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It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. She reeled in excitement, she unzipped his pants while kissing him, trying not to let herself stop touching him as she unclothed him. “We were bound to do this when you kissed me,” she sobbed through her tears.
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