He was also aware that all his arguments would shatter themselves against her resolutions. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips.
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