The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. "Most persons would have guessed my meaning. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. Until that was done a certain experience of life assured him that a girl is a locked coldness against a man’s approach. ” So that was it! “He came and talked to me.
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