With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. On the envelope was written— Sydney Courtlaw, Esq.
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