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He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. ” She laid her fingers for a moment upon his arm. ‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse. Pity you aren’t under my command. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend. ’ She frowned suddenly.

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