Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. ” Her answer was terse.
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