Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. Imbecile. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what one may not do amongst one’s own set. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight.
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