Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. Looking for something, or someone, probably.
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