Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. Had he but known it, his outburst had done him no harm in the major’s eyes. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. "But trifle with mo no longer. But I am here.
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