” “I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in store for you. “It’s precious unromantic. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child.
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