CHAPTER XXIII. Even Blueskin looked on with anxiety. Her tone was icy. Perhaps an hour later he would begin again. “We don’t let to ladies,” they said. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling.
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