" Davies reluctantly complied. "My janizaries are within call," returned Wild. "Something's wrong. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. ” He said as Cathy took his coat and alternately handed him back his bouquet of red roses. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much.
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