Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. She gave up as he finished, spending himself in her mouth. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. He still watched her and questioned her. “I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. ‘Say it.
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