Susanne
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doc#140 flesh through all the quivering pores of her skin. It crawled across her breasts, suffocating
doc#140 slipped the ornament into the pocket of her slacks, moved down the stairs and out of
doc#140 her feet; bushes swished and scratched at her slacks; tree branches snapped as she pushed
doc#148 something about the contour of her face, her smile that was like New Orleans sunshine
doc#98 reformatory for women for the murder in 1935 of her son-in-law, Ervin Lang, then 28, appealed
doc#104 tulip stains; Go, tell his aged mother that her son Fought with a thousand foes, and he
doc#140 achieving this one goal. If, as she walked, her steps fumbled from time to time, she chose
doc#132 mother's death when she was eight, as well as her subsequent anger at her father for remarrying
doc#113 respectability. One girl describes her past, her succession of broken marriages, the abortions
doc#137 should I? I own the place". </p><p> She showed her surprise by tightening the reins and moving
doc#145 of the grub box, to ease the pressure of her swollen body on her bone-weary legs, and
doc#140 hard and stuck to the roof of her mouth and her teeth were clenched together in the rigid
doc#98 prison, but former Gov. Stratton commuted her term to 75 years, making her eligible for
doc#140 suffocating the life in her nipples. It circled her thighs, exploring with its icy tentacles
doc#142 children, attempting without success to keep her thoughts off Tom Brannon. </p><p> Tom Brannon
doc#140 pursuit of tranquillity, Pamela focused her thoughts on her husband. If, when this
doc#140 her breath came in harsh gasps; clutched her throat and sucked up the moisture in her
doc#140 by a vile sensuality that writhed around her throat in ever-tightening circles. </p><p>
doc#137 </p><p> "You own this place"? she said, and her tone had softened until it was almost friendly
doc#140 sucked up the moisture in her mouth so that her tongue was dry and hard and stuck to the