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“Let me help you,” he begged. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “Can’t it be altered? “I suppose an actress is free?. ” She spoke rather quickly, because she found her father’s question the most awkward she had ever had to answer in her life. "Here we part,—perhaps for ever. ‘I’ll make you an offer.
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