The afternoon had passed now into twilight. Shari regaled Lucy with soap operatic tales of boy-girl intrigues at the high school, then spoke of her aspirations for the future. “Vee,” she said, “come home. Of all the amazing coincidences. She comprehends what we're about. “I’ve been looking out for you,” he said. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Also she had tried him as a dragoman and as a gendarme, which seemed the most suitable of all to his severely handsome, immobile profile. What a heat that news had wrought. I’ve had a headache all day. Sheppard, fervently. I have strength enough to drag myself there, and I do not want to return. I will endeavour. But come, sir. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own.
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