Looking down she saw a ferry crossing from one side to the other as a customs patrol boat made its nightly entry from the sea, the day’s work over. ... yacht followed, heading for the marina. It was a beautiful, peaceful scene. At any rate, peaceful now that work on the large building site next door had ceased for the day. The only sounds were the gentle put-put of the boats’ engines and the distant rumble of traffic, punctuated by the arrival of a car at the hotel entrance six storeys below.. I'm not sure how it works then. I love Willow, adore Willow and belong to Willow in every way possible, but I'd never call myself married to Willow. It's hard to explain, but a marriage doesn't seem to be enough for me. I need to be Willow's. Well, Willow and Erica's since they do share everything, including a brain sometimes.Oh, this is Violet writing. Louisa pretends she's too hoity-toity to write to other concubines. It's not really that, its more she doesn't know how she might relate to. More

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