“You are the most perfect, the most glorious of created things—tender, frank intellectual, brave, beautiful. modern. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. And mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call.
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