Imitating the example of Mr. " The Wastrel laughed. You won’t have a man’s lips near you, but you’ll eat out of his hand fast enough. Ramage back his forty pounds. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. Let's talk of this chap. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness.
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