As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. ' That has always haunted me.
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