He heard the woman talking again. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically.
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