‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. ” “That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask.
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