” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. Nevertheless, she was still fighting. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear.
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