She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. “I think that I know very well what I am saying,” she answered. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs.
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