"What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. I am not prying for my own amusement. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. “Very good,” he said.
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