’ He sighed. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. ‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. That’s— that’s my private life. Such pretty manners, she thought.
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