’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. ” “Very romantic.
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