"It takes me back to Pimlico--that night when we went shopping together--you bought me a shilling's worth."
"I wish someone would come; then we'd get out of it," remarked Windebank.
But his wife did not appear to listen; she was lost in thought. Then she clung desperately to his arm.
"What is it?" he asked tenderly.
"It's love I want; love. Nothing else matters. Love me: love me: love me. A little love will help me to forget."
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