Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. It was impulsive and natural. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. “We shall try again later. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated.
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