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. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground.
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