Pretty good stuff, some of it. This is a tale of two young fools. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. "Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. There is a tragedy to come.
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