“Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. ’ ‘It’s immaterial, in any event,’ Roding put in. He cherished her. "Dead!" echoed the boy. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them.
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