It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. She was no longer certain that she desired an Englishman, if she must judge of one in particular. ” Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. No; I’m going to stick to the rules.
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