He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. "Mr. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably.
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