" "A young fellow who thinks he's in love, when he has only been reading too much. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. ” He paused with a sense of ineptitude. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. The tropical dawn is swift. Wood. “My dear,” she said, when she could get her breath, “you must come home at once.
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