. He waited. This one too she read. There were two. I'll talk to her in the morning, but she won't understand what I'm driving at. Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. I’ve made no one happy. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. It was locked. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it.
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