He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. F. ’ ‘It cannot be helped now. ” Then a burst of applause.
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