“Think of the mockery!” she said. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. He swung it open and then used his body to pin her against her seat. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. ” He was very indifferent. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon.
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