I wonder what it was. \" \"Oh, come on!\" Shari exclaimed, putting her cocoa down and burying her face in a fat white pillow. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. ‘Certainly no one will find it. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned.
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