When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. I am quite sure though that they did not mean to be rude. Idiote.
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