You have to come over to my house. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. Of all the entirely English women I know, you’re the only one with a French accent. I don’t know.
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