ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. ” “It presented a large impenetrable back, and went on thinking about something else. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. “It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. “I will tell you as much as this,” she continued.
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