The touch of her hands was pleasurable. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Had Valade been to see him? Possibly even yesterday when he was followed by some young lad—and the girl, of course. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room.
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