Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. ” He shook her hands off almost roughly. “It was my sister Anna. He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre.
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