She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. She was alone with a deadly enemy. Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. He had heard nothing. . No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. If one wants a thing very much, perhaps one is inclined to think one can’t have it. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. ” Her heart had warmed toward him.
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