I wonder——” He turned slowly round. I have been used to living in apartments in Paris, but I suppose the system is different here. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the room. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction.
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