That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. ‘When we met probably, and you threatened me at the first. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. He was caressing an idea.
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