. She ignored his question. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Save my seat. Jonathan, however, still lingered.
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