‘He destroyed the papers?’ ‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. “Not at all. But I have remembered the horse and have asked this sergeant that a soldier fetch him. “No!” she exclaimed. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. Although she had refused to answer his impertinent questions. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry.
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