" "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs. Mr. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. . Mr. " "And what is that?" "I have relatives not far from Hartford. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage.
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