She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. The soldiers! They must not find her here. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. Bodies! Bodies! Horrible things! We are souls. org Section 4. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue.
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