But, go and see who it is, love. "It's more than I am," muttered Thames. Everybody talking of you. Wood entered the room, followed by Thames. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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