“This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her. He was in a curious state of desperation. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. ‘You will take the place of André?’ ‘Exactly so. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. ‘To where has he gone off?’ ‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. Between him and the beach stood the sum of six hundred dollars. “Is it your maid?” he asked. Water soaked her through in five minutes. Jonathan smiled contemptuously.
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