A series of photographs were taken of them: her on the stairs, the couple of them on the stairs, the couple of them in the kitchen, him pinning a red rose corsage with great care and acute sexual frustration. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. Then most horribly she was clasped about the waist from behind and lifted from the ground. Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her. "I'm afraid we'll have to dig into his trunk," he said. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it.
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