“I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. ‘But tell me this instead.
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