“Oh, Lady Love,
where is my glove? cried the anxious gardener, Tobias Dove.
“Check under
the bed,” she said. “If my husband finds it, he’ll shoot you dead.”
“It’s not
there,” he said as he got down on his knees. “Help me look, help me, please!”
“Check under
the cover, my lover, we have little time to spare. I must get dressed and fix
up my hair.”
Tobias
frowned and began to moan. “You can’t leave me to search all on my own.”
“I can’t
meet my husband looking like this. If I’m not properly dressed he’ll know
something’s amiss.”
Tobias eyed
her with acute despair. “Sometimes I wish we’d never started this affair.”
“If you
think you can end this you’re sadly mistaken. I’m the Lady of the manor and I
won’t be forsaken.”
“But I’m
tired of being a lover for hire. Isn’t there someone else who can satisfy you
desire?”
“Lord Love?
Heavens above! The silly sot’s shrimp is permanently limp.”
Suddenly he
spotted the glove and let out a triumphant cry. “I don’t believe it; it was
right before my eye.”
“Good, now
come and join me in the shower. My husband shall be home before the hour. After
that you can tend to the flowers. Oh, and before forget. I’ve told a good
friend about my wonderful pet. She is dying to meet you and shall pay a large
fee. You’ll simply love Lady Chatterley.”
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