‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. "Keep off, you accursed jade!" roared Jonathan, "—off, I say, or—" And he struck her a violent blow with his clenched hand. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. The vicomte must be well known to those high-born who have gone to England.
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