Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. She isn't used to cities. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. The dress of the dwarfish Jew was not, however, favourable to this expedient. She struggled fiercely not to give way. I don’t care. There was no response.
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