“Believe me, I know. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. . “I am sure of it. ” “Coffee! Bah!” The newcomer picked her way across the floor with daintily uplifted skirts, and subsided into a deck chair of stretched canvas. You are to come home. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers.
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