So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. ’” “Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked. His tone was rough, almost threatening. Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the room. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth.
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