They drove rapidly through the emptying streets. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty. E. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured.
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