. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. Then he took the pulse. One could go to him and tell him one loved him. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him.
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