“Tut, tut!” he said. Just as he had succeeded in fixing his attention, it was again shaken, and he was almost unnerved by the sight of Mr. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. He hated the taste of it.
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