Then, as Ramage readjusted himself in a corner, he remarked: “These young people shoot up, Stanley. ” Anna was not late, but her heart sank within her when she entered the drawingroom. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all concerned.
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