That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. Even your family. ‘Thanks to him, Hilary and I nearly had our heads blown off. ” “At any rate,” she declared, “your remarks decided me. "What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence. ” “Nothing that one wants. . ‘I don’t know that I dare. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. ’ ‘Lord, yes,’ agreed Gerald, in mock horror. I'll keep it for your sake.
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