Lucy inhaled deeply. I will not talk to you about Miss Pellissier or her affairs. Her voice recalled him. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires.
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