But go on. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. I shall barely be in time for the theatre. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. Love anywhere. Ask your own conscience. "Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned me!" cried Thames. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light.
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