He was disquieted. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. Do have some tea, won’t you? If you must, go then. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. Grace à Leonardo, she could defend herself now! Gosse was still attempting to manhandle the door, when she turned the key and wrenched it open. \" His tone was weak and conciliatory. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one.
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