” She covered her face with her hands. Would you like to borrow some of my clothes? I think we're about the same size. “Well?” “You and all the rest of them are always lamenting that I do not marry. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. " "But not for me," growled Terence, in an under tone. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea.
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