There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. We may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. She looked stealthily at Anna.
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