” He frowned. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. The thought made her exquisitely happy. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. . You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met.
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