Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. ‘And then vanished into thin air,’ rejoined Hilary on a sardonic note. “My wife refused absolutely to have anything more to do with me. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. I do want them. Last night there had been no time. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. There was something very wrong. I know of scandalous deeds which he has done. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig.
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