Well, while we were smoking our pipes, and quaffing our punch, Alsatia turns to me and says, 'Mint,' says he, 'you're well off here. Wood, reproachfully, as they returned to the parlour. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth.
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