‘I told you I could handle her. "Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. Shari’s eyes widened, “You mean it?” “I’m all yours, head to toe. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. “A woman wants a proper alliance with a man, a man who is better stuff than herself. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory.
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