A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. “You appear,” she said, without any sign of anger in her tone, and with unruffled composure, “to be a very impertinent person. ‘What?’ ‘Nothing,’ snapped Roding, with an odd look at his bride to be that Gerald could not interpret. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda.
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