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. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. The future was not so black. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. F. . ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray.
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