She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. “More than that, he arrived to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. On the way he confessed. ‘If you’ll have the goodness, missie, to move yourself out of the way,’ he said aggrievedly, ‘and let us at him, we might have a chance of doing just that. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. After all, life had still its pulsations.
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