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More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ” He took his place by her side, and they talked lightly of London, the shops and people. This woman, contrary to his custom, he answered. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. "You open it, Ruth. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. . Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs.
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