He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. The Times slipped from his fingers. " "Good news will be news to me. .
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