She tried to be casual. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. I love you. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone.
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