" With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. She aimed directly at Rhea’s head. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. "It was silly.
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