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\"Where are you going?\" She cried. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. Here we go, thought Gerald. "Do you want it back under the pillow?" "Hang it over a chair. I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. You need only answer me truthfully and you have nothing to fear. ” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly.
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