’ ‘And you will not,’ came triumphantly from the cherry lips. One learns to sit up. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. Bah. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed.
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