“Please, stay a while longer. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. She unlaced his pants and slid them down his hips, examining him as he stood before her naked. “There is no time for that. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it.
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