“When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete. She entered the last room, his bedroom.
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