It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. "Stir a foot, at your peril. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. ’ Gerald frowned. She winked at him as he shut the door. 1.
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