“I’d give anything to kiss your neck. His face brightened at the sight of her, and he came toward her. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. ’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms.
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