They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. He smiled tenderly. “Yes, mostly. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. I consider even now that the present colour is far less becoming. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire.
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