I went to her rooms to-night. We were alike. Such a beautiful boy he is, but his intelligence is marginal. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. ‘You mean there isn’t any evidence of a break-in.
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