Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face.
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