. ’ Emile’s eyes blazed. I’d only get a pack of lies in reply. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. “Muck-headed moral ass! I ought to have done anything. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. So the world is choked with waste and waiting daughters.
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