He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. ’ Hilary stared. Mr. “But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to. She still kicked herself for it. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another.
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