She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. I thought one had only to take it by the throat. Her mind left her. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. He moaned. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly.
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