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"Then his case is hopeless. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. After the day in the library, he constantly demonstrated his affections; Gianfrancesco had never done that. Seeing John in Chemistry was the worst. Nevertheless Sydney, clumsily, but earnestly, had something to say about it. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. It was obvious that he had waited for her. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers.
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