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She caught hold of the Savage's arm and pressed it, limply, against her side. He looked down at her for a moment, pale, pained, desiring and ashamed of his desire. He was not worthy, not...Their eyes for a moment met. What treasures hers promised! A queen's ransom of temperament. Hastily he looked away, disengaged his imprisoned arm. He was obscurely terrified lest she cease to be something he could feel himself unworthy of. - Brave New World