She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole shot to us. I am suspected of having shot the man. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. ” “Thanks, honey. ” She let him make love to her that night.
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