Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. I begin to fear I might be purposely go out of the way. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing.
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