Ary Rosario

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She glanced up at him and then it was as if the rest of the world were gone, too, not just the sweating horses and their jockeys, their thunder; everything else was gone but the colonel, smiling down at her, his eyes bright, his lashes long, the shadow cast by the brim of his bowler a soft painted darkness along his cheekbones.
The Second Mrs. Astor
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