“She wasn’t sane, my wife. “Okay. Such pretty manners, she thought. She’s very special. \"What's that?\" Lucy asked. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green.
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