“I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. "That he couldn't choose any one so agreeable to me. Roof open —like a Noah’s Ark. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened.
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