He sprung out of the driver’s side and ran to her door. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. "Neither man nor woman shall apply that term to me. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place.
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