And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. Suppose our proper place is a shrine. You're rich. ” At the sight of her tears his expression changed to a mingling of triumph and concern. The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall.
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