Looking into the grave, Lt. Charles Stewart took the widow’s hand. ‘Such a waste.’ ‘Yes. Yes it is,’ Catherine mumbled. She looked up at Cha...les. Taking her gloved hand, she stroked his cheek. ‘Charles, dear Charles. You must come back to me.’ Chapter One The Western Front 1917 Captain Charles Stewart took a long sip on his tea. It was hot and strong and he could feel it going down. The fact it was laced with rum simply added to it. It took the chill off the early spring night. Seated in the. She loved them all so long as they had proper heels that allowed her to show her legs to their best.Chloe had perhaps 30 pairs, she had never really counted them, she wore them whenever she could, certainly every day she wore one pair or another.As soon as she came home from work, even while she was still in drab, her feet would be slipped into something with at least 4 inches of heel. Putting them on was almost a ritual, was part of being at home, of being liberated - of being herself.The. More

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