“Vee,” she said, “come home. Wild never was the associate of thieves. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. " With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. ‘Me also I do not recall them.
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