Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. And in this fact lay his danger. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. " "My negligence, Mr.
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