She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. To love in such a way, it is excessively selfish. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts.
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