I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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