Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction. “It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared. But the lady was not so easily won; and though she did not absolutely reject him, gave him very slight hopes. From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no less interesting because he was unsuccessful. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous. The major hailed him with a show of relief. He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness.
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