” She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. "We're forgetting," he said. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. A bad man, in fact. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied myself happy,—as happy as I am now.
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