You would not have believed me, I know well. ” They went on for a time without another word. Plote was sleeping or deaf. He was suddenly calm. He could scarcely blame her. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears.
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