"Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. ” He closed the door partially behind himself. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her.
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