I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. I suppose I believe in God. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. " "So I perceive," replied Wood. The servants had left the room.
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