It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. " "What does it signify?" returned the latter, angrily. They laughed and talked and stared about them. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. This was what he missed. . And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. I spent my fair share of time in the closet. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love.
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