Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. 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. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen.
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