. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. “I believe that he would bore me. ” “Nor I,” she remarked tersely. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. I am ready to wait for you, to wait your pleasure, to give all my life to winning it. " "Well, we shall see," replied Jack. “I’m sorry. He got off on it.
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