They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. ‘I’ve never before made love at pistol point. Only I do not care to write about anything else. She and I were very close. But he did not follow on with the thought. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. ’ The eyes flashed momentarily.
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