Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat.
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