The street lamps glowed like ripe oranges among the bare boughs. Below in the wet street their globes glimmered down and down, to drown in their own reflections.
Mary StewartTags: lyrical imagery mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting street-lamps
The car whispered up the slope and nosed quietly out above the trees. He was driving like a careful insult.
Mary StewartTags: insult driving mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
Damn it, the tiger played velvet paws with me, didn't he?
Mary StewartTags: mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
...kissing me with a violence that was terrifying and yet, somehow, the summit of all my tenderest dreams.
Mary StewartTags: love kissing mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
I remember thinking with a queer detached portion of my mind that here was someone wringing her hands. One reads about it and one never sees it, and now here it was.
Mary StewartTags: mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting wringing-hands
Well, what was luck for if it was never to be tempted?
Mary StewartTags: luck mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
I knew that I had turned my world back to cinders, sunk my lovely ship with my own stupid, wicked hands.
Mary StewartTags: ruin self-destruction mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
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