“You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. ” “Perhaps not in a general way,” he answered calmly. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards.
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