" "So you think," muttered Jack, between his ground teeth. " This went on for ten days. I do not know. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced. ” Michelle shrugged. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet.
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