Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light. To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant.
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