Ennison,” she said, letting her fingers rest in his. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. Go to it. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. Sheppard is —" "I know what Mrs. . The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple.
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