She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. “And somehow or other,” she added, after a long interval, “I must pay Mr. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. And the change, the change of attitude! The way all the old clingingness has been thrown aside is amazing. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger.
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