Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. “Well!” she declared good-humouredly. She looked in the rear-view mirror. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. “Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never trouble you.
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