Wood, disdainfully. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. Her back arched and she felt herself instinctively sinking into him. .
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