They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. She shook her head. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement.
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