“I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. Sir John hesitated. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet.
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