. . ’ She sniffed and swallowed. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes.
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