She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. The pistol fell to the floor. His nose was large but also fine and angular, tapering to a point at the end like a nobleman’s. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. Panting with effort, she held her point menacingly at Gosse’s chest. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it.
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