For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. I wonder what it was.
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