“Let me help you,” he begged. He always followed by showering her with kisses, embracing her tightly as she squirmed and giggled. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. He brought into service all his Oriental bar-room tricks. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. She thought then that she had shaken off the man of the bulging blue eyes forever, but that night she found he followed her into her dreams.
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