She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. . I want you to be my lover. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. ” She eyed him scornfully. It doesn’t matter with me, but there are at least a dozen young women in Mr. It was an impulse.
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