He saw that she was tense. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Your purposes are defeated. "Leave him to me," he said. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again.
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