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Narrator:
The deed is done. The lover rushes from the place of assignation. Was it touch, or deep, thrusting consummation? The answer awaits, covered by the webbed hand of night. Yet, in this full-chested singing, surely there is triumph, exultation, mastery of she who nightly beckoned in pale mockery across space no longer endless?復制復制成功復制失敗，請手動復制
