"Thank you," she said, and left the office. “These two haven’t been lovers for a long time. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. It’s an engagement ring. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. "Mr.
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