Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. She said you HAD some money.
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