But a man is a mixed creature. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. She entered the kitchen. Something namelessly abhorrent in the eyes of those men…! She knew what arms were for—to fold and embrace and to hold one tightly; but why men wished to kiss women was still a profound mystery.
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