“Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. When she judged that she must be nearly back at the library, she began to feel somewhat dispirited. Too much, perhaps. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth.
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