Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. I made her my unwilling confederate. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. There are certain smells, certain tinges to the air. "Her ladyship—" faltered the attendant.
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