“I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. A silence ensued.
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