Suspicion was in his face. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. He tried again. Do not avoid me if we meet by accident, but I trust to you all not to let the accident happen if you can help it. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. She turned her head to each side.
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