He made it brief. They rose as she approached. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. “I find the two inseparable. I bent over him. ’ ‘But you are bleeding like a pig,’ came the frantic response. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise.
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