Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. " "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. For a long time neither spoke again. ” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. . But his words were borne away by the driving wind.
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