The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. A week later the manuscript was polished and typewritten, ready for the test. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. . ” It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange and unexpected places. "But, I own, I think it is like.
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