The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. He bore it as long as he could, watching all the time with fascinated eyes Annabel moving gracefully about amongst her guests, always gay, with a smile and a whisper for nearly everybody. A skeleton was propped against the mantelpiece. \"Yes, he's hot, drives a great car, parents are loaded, and, of course, as you say, good-looking. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. And rather unscrupulous. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession.
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