The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. I'm heading for bed. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ’ He let her go. \"Thank you.
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