She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep. “I got Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the Gare du Nord. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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