She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. She had become unashamed of her nudity, altogether unfocused on her appearance. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. And I want you for myself—for my wife. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. He removed his cigarette from his lips and waved it gently in the air.
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