’ With satisfaction, Gerald noted that her voice was hopelessly unsteady and drove home his advantage. But he did not follow on with the thought. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. Just. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. The afternoon had passed now into twilight.
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