After that night she made it a habit. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. Why should WE hoard? We aren’t going out presently, like Japanese lanterns in a gale. ” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly.
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