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Page 339

| forget that down below on the streets of Narrung could be found jinkers, bullock carts, hay wagons, sleepy hacks hung up to hitching posts, and tired Aborigines leaning against verandah posts. She had even seen a few brooding Chinese prospectors smoking thin, yellow cigarettes, and a row of mongrel dogs asleep along the earthen pavement. All had seemed to be stilled into a strange sort of inertia in the summer heat. |

| Like the lobby, this room was large, airy and opulent. Everything was white and lacy, from the satin draperies at the one window to the satin bedspread and bedskirt, white lace adorning its edges to match the pillows that were trimmed with thickly gathered lace. |

| Freshly cut flowers were in abundance throughout the room, filling the air with the fragrance of an English garden. Two overstuffed chairs flanked a wide, white velveteen-covered sofa in front of a fireplace. The carpet was white at Ashton's feet as he carried her to the bed and gently laid her upon it. She scarcely noticed a bottle of champagne and two tall-stemmed glasses on a nightstand beside the bed, for Ashton's fingers were already eagerly undressing her. |

| "My wife," Ashton said, his violet eyes darkening with passion. "Is it true, Sasha? Did you speak words of forever with me only moments ago? Did you truly become my wife?" |

| "My husband," Sasha said, trembling as Ashton smoothed her dress down from her shoulders, and then her underthings, freeing her breasts. "Are you truly my husband? I thought such a man as you only existed in a woman's fantasies. How can you be |

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