Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. ” “I am very glad,” he answered, in a low tone. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. A sinister thought edged in.
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