. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale.
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