He kissed her deeply and hungrily. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally.
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