She was dressed in one of those complicated dresses that are all lace and work and confused patternings of black and purple and cream about the body, and she was in many ways a younger feminine version of the same theme as himself. . Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. A cold shiver came over her. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well.
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