He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. . "How goes it?" he began, heartily. You, Anna, are one of them. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr.
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