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 StewartMots clés 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 StewartMots clés insult driving mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
Damn it, the tiger played velvet paws with me, didn't he?
Mary StewartMots clés mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
...kissing me with a violence that was terrifying and yet, somehow, the summit of all my tenderest dreams.
Mary StewartMots clés 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 StewartMots clés mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting wringing-hands
Well, what was luck for if it was never to be tempted?
Mary StewartMots clés 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 StewartMots clés ruin self-destruction mary-stewart nine-coaches-waiting
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