Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. I have said good-bye to it all. ‘All right, Trodger. What an adventure! Of course, you'll bark your shins here and there and hit your funnybone; but the newness of everything will be something of a compensation. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. “But about last night. But from the rest—you saved me.
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