Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. “In any case you will never receive any different sort of answer from me. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. . Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.
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