The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. If only to say goodbye. After all, they’re history in the making. By the by, my dear, I forgot to ask your name—perhaps you'll oblige me with it now? Hell and the devil!—gone!" He looked around in vain. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. “I promise, Lucy.
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