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From me. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. Do you like duck?” “Sure. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. He stole his chance and thrust his hand towards hers.

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