“Bother it all!” she swore. Hips tended to be the bane of Shari’s existence as she tried diet after diet to get rid of them. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. " "He made you wear shoes and stockings?" "Always. You told him there wasn't anything in the pockets?" "Yes. Lovers' confidences should be respected. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. Wood, in a taunting tone. I have no right to love you. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. A sinister thought edged in.
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