" He took her face between his hands and kissed her on the lips. “We’ll go together. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. Wild wishes to keep a man out of the way, he'll speedily find the means to do so. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. The Pursuit.
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