She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. Wood. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. “I want to have no distractions.
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