Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. “I can’t endure it,” she said. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. In Europe or in America people would have smiled; but in Singapore—the half-way port of the world—where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and west, no one had remarked her. CHAPTER X. It’s so different from what one has been led to expect. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely.
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