She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. ” “You have seen her—since last night?” “Yes. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. Gerald’s temper flared.
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