“Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. She kissed him on the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you.
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