This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. She found a little difficulty in beginning. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here.
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