“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. But think of the disillusionment! Except for our sex we have minds like men, desires like men. It was too good to be true. I must not let you go again. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple.
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