With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. It is very sweet of you to have waited for me. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got. “There’s twenty before you, and Mr.
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