“I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. I have an idea that you are in some sort of trouble. A lovely, fetching girl.
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