Rose often referred to her a hot head, and I couldn’t disagree. Felicity felt with every atom she possessed. I admired her for that.I slipped throug... the curtain and there was Rose, pale and nearly lifeless against the stark white sheets—not much whiter than her skin. Thank God Frank warned me.Felicity was in a chair beside her, toying with the fingers of Rose’s right hand. She looked up when she heard the sound of my footsteps and greeted me with a small smile.I took a seat on the other side. You filthy dog.”I knew John was enjoying the show. And right then I really wanted to blow a load down Brenda’s throat. But not yet.I released her head, and she pulled her mouth off my cock. “A filthy dog?” She looked at John. “You say I’m a filthy dog?”“You know what a filthy dog you are. You need to be treated like a filthy dog. Don’t you agree, John?” John nodded. His hands were straining to reach his cock. He loved hearing his wife degraded that way.“Are you sure, John?” I asked. She turned her face away and said, "Fine, jes' fine. Why?" Oh, Stud said you had the miseries and..." Damn Stud. Can't mind his own business," she said with real anger, her hoyden nature bubbling to the surface."Are you crying?" Beall asked to the back of her curly head. "Here, look at me." He put his hand on her shoulder."Ouch, damn!" she said and pulled away from him, still looking into the fire."What's wrong, girl?" Oh, I made a mistake that's all. Nothin's broke." She turned to face him,. The kitchens and the servants’ quarters seemed quieter than she remembered from her last visit to the Garrett estate, and she found the change unsettling, as if the mood of the entire South had grown somber and troubled. The first face she met was startled by her unannounced appearance from the rear of the estate. He was dressed in the clothing of a house-servant, and carried pails slung under each side of a yoke burdening his stooped shoulders. Ellen asked the gray-whiskered old kitchen-slave.