Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. ’ ‘But you managed to escape nevertheless,’ Gerald said calmly, ‘disguising yourself as a nun. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. "You are my prisoner.
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