“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. \"Of course it is okay. Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the stews. John knew better. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. I want to boast myself. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me.
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