Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. She is a woman chosen in youth for her beauty and her intelligence. It is like some accident. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
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