Her thoughts took words for themselves. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. She was consumed by misery and hate. Then she went below.
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