The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ” Mike blurted, his voice swallowed by the throb of loud music. Here her strength completely failed her, and she was compelled to seek some repose. But I trusted to that ring of yours. ‘If you had told him that I would rather die than see him, he would not have come. “It’s very good,” she said.
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