He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. She can be of use to me yet. Be so good as to let me pass, sir,” she added, looking her obstructor steadily in the face. " "There's no hurry.
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