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“Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. Oh, you must believe me. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. She realized that no man had ever placed a mantle of respect upon her as Sebastian did; respect for more than just her pretty face and her now lost ability to bear children. “We are the species,” said Miss Miniver, “men are only incidents. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home.
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