She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. I’m sorry. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. ” “It is my wish to be alone,” she said wearily. “I am much obliged to you,” he said. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. “It’s my fault. ” His shoulders relaxed. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. 7.
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