She wedged the towel between her legs. He looked at Hilary and nodded. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. The women’s meeting was much more charged with emotional force than the Socialists’. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. “I’ve got—I have to tell you this to make myself clear—a streak of ardent animal in my composition.
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