” “Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. Yes, of course. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it.
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