It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. “But you must forgive me, John. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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