It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. S. Hollo rumbled in his throat. “She doesn’t know. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. He declined to come in. “It is nothing of any importance. "The nurses," she answered. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.
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