The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. ‘You would know more of me?’ ‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once provocative and inviting. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. He gripped one of her pert nipples with his fingers as he came inside her. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. Earles watched her anxiously. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. I did all for the best, I'm sure. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. You do not need my compliments.
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