’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. She was faint from hunger, her head spinning into dizziness, the blood madness readying for battle. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. " "That's frank enough," the doctor admitted astonishedly. “Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he asked quietly.
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