’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. She hastened past. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. She heard the shower running and looked at his floor.
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