She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. ‘I do not understand you. .
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