“Let me help you,” he begged. "Well, good night, Mr. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. “Why should it matter?” he said. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Imagine any one on this side refusing fifty bucks! Well, I'll be toddling along. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. . She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground.
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