She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. It was not a difficult affair. He leaned forward to embrace her. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite.
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