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As you would imagine, the great and the good of Verona, plus the heads and prime personages of the various delegations, occupied most of the seating.However, Claudia had secured me a ticket as her escort.The evening before the concert, and my birthday, I was in the reading room of the Villa writing a letter to Mimi Renoir, and, it must be said, feeling rather sad and sorry for myself.I knew any mail sent from Verona to Château Blanchard would take months to travel the ice and snow bound landscape, but the activity of putting quill to paper made me feel closer to her.I stopped writing when Monique entered the room. She sat down next to me and put her arms around my waist.“Claudia has told me what tomorrow means for you, Giovanni. When I sing at the Arena I will be singing just for you. I hope my voice and the music will blot out any thoughts of the terrible happening.”She kissed my surprised lips, hugged me to her warm and expansive bosom, before patting my cheek and then leaving the. He emerged from the mist and stood there looking at her. "Hello Piper." He said, his voice had an air of authority to it. Piper was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the way his eyes roamed over her body. Especially the way they seemed to linger particularly long on her butt, thighs, and breasts. "My eyes are up here pal," Piper said, trying to sound braver then she felt, "Now...". "You will speak when spoken to." He cut her off harshly. Piper almost shot back with a retort, but the harshness of his words and the threat in his eyes caused her to keep silent. "My name is Kael." He continues, "This is my harem." Piper's eyes narrowed, she did not like where this was going. "You are my new concubine, and I am now your master." Piper had had just about enough of this. "Whatever." Piper said, waving her hands to blast him to pieces. Nothing happened. Piper tried again, and again as he began to advance upon her, she tried to freeze him, nothing happened. .
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’ I put my hand into my coat pocket. The envelope my landlady had given me fell on to the floor. I picked it up and scrabbled a threepenny bit and three pennies from my change. ‘Done.’ I said. ‘OK.’ I opened the envelope while the farmer was getting the paperwork. Inside were a pound and a ten shilling note. I now had a whole five pounds. In the kitchen his wife produced tea, scones, butter, jam and clotted cream while we filled out the paperwork to transfer the car. The scones were delicious. My enjoyment was obvious and she pressed more on me. I looked at the clock. It was half past ten. Even if I left now I might not reach Exeter in time for the last train to London. I said so. ‘You won’t need a train,’ his wife said. ‘That car may be old but it’ll get you all the way there and back again, slowly mind, but steadily.’ ‘But it’ll need petrol and there aren’t any petrol stations open at night.’ ‘There’s an all-night one near Honiton,’ he said, ‘but you’ll need a fill before then. Got.

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