. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. She could not part with dignity. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. “I shall not speak,” he said, “now or at any other time. If you can tell me nothing I don’t already know, so be it. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. It is not a dissipated face.
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