They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. Kneebone's 346 XIV. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. I want to love him. She laughed a little contemptuously. Not alone with her, that’s sure.
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