He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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