2. Ennison looked down on him in disgust. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. “Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. Corbet Kynaston, then? Sir John Packington's courier was here yesterday. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. He laughed lightly. You would be alarmed of how sulphurous it is, how sickeningly sweet.
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