Presently. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. I don’t understand the workings of a gentleman’s mind. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. He squatted and threw his arm around the backs of her knees. He savored the last solo, the coda.
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