I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. ‘I should have thought it was obvious. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. You see, I’m selfish. ‘Ah, bah, it is enough,’ she cried, and turning, ran out of the room. One thing may be a necessary collateral of the others. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. “Oh no, you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” “No Julian. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. “What I am after is that beauty isn’t a special inserted sort of thing; that’s my idea.
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