132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. You are my slave—and such you shall continue.
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