"Is she alive?" "She is not," replied Trenchard, overcome by conflicting emotions, and unable to endure the boy's agonized look. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree.
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