A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. A week later the manuscript was polished and typewritten, ready for the test. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!” “Why not?” she asked, smiling. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room.
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