’. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. The entrance of Shoe Lane, and the whole line of the wall of St. Ann Veronica was by this time quite shocked at her own thoughts, and yet they would go on with their freaks. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. "You open it, Ruth.
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