He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. It is Thérèse. Gerald went through all the papers in front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. He groped her buttocks. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin.
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