” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. " "You read those yarns?" Spurlock's head came about, and there was eagerness in his eyes. “I have learned that. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. I wanted the magic of love. You keep on coming truer, after you have seemed to come altogether true.
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