"I must go. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. ‘Never fear, my love.
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