It is foolish of me, Fanny agreed, "and not complimentary to our
love. I have kept you so long over nothing that you will be late
for dinner. I don't care!" Her manner bore a foreign trace of
abandon in its radiant happiness; and, with spread fingers on his
back, she propelled him toward the stairs. But, in their room, he
failed to change his clothes: he sat lost in a concentration of
thought, of summoned determination.
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