’ It took several frustrating moments, working at the protrusions of the carving down the side of the bookshelves, tugging at leaves, pushing at flowers. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. CHAPTER XX.
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