“I am the most foolish of men. Then her eyes flashed. In the upper hall he paused to listen. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger.
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