He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. . All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. “Let me see,” he said. " He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. ” She felt his heart warming the small room like a radiator.
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