. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. Their eyes met, and his expressed perplexity and curiosity. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. As a rule their comings and goings were discussed with perfect confidence, but on this occasion they both felt that there was intent in her silence as to her destination. ’ ‘She?’ scoffed Martha. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields.
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