“It was,” she admitted. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. With delicate touch he rescued all that was possible of them, and made a careful little parcel. Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out.
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