” Lucy found dinner was very pleasant as John’s parents were easy to chat with. “He ran some Austrian fellow off. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. . For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose.
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