” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. Would you mind?" She wanted another kiss, but she did not know how to go about it; so she satisfied the hunger by pressing his hands to her thundering heart. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world.
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