If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. I want you to hold me and have me SO. Spit of your mother. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. That's part of the bargain. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. ” The topic of his invalid wife bored him, and he turned at once to Ann Veronica.
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