An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. “Our ways happened to lie together. I know very well Gerald has been fishing for information about that girl, and I am determined to find out what he knows. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. Morningside Park was a suburb that had not altogether, as people say, come off. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain.
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