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But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. He had deliberately saved it for last. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. These things are difficult. Lucy ate without passion.
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