‘You cannot be always with me. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. When I think of the love you give me—One ought to give you back love. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. ‘Now let’s have it. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. I feel that I shall stifle unless I can do something—and do something soon. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. She too had seen.
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