“I was referring to the celebration tonight,” he interrupted firmly, “not what is going to happen afterward, between us. However, since we’re on the subject,” he continued, surveying her panicky expression, “suppose you tell me why the prospect of lying with me suddenly seems to frighten you so.” “I’m not frightened,” she denied desperately, thinking it might be a mistake to admit to any form of weakness. “But having already done it—I simply feel no desire to do it again. I felt much the same about— about pomegranates. After I tried them, I just didn’t want them any more. I’m like that
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