" "You may spare me your compassion, friend," observed Thames; "I am falsely detained. ” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat.
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