’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. . . A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. Perhaps what I need is something to bite in.
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