Her back stiffened. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. My dress, my person will be minutely described. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. I’m not sure if Janine cared. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his.
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