But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. elizabethbailey. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. It ought never to have begun. Nevertheless it was overwhelming. You must live for me. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose.
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