“I don’t want children, Lucy. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. “Our ways happened to lie together. A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He stood transfixed.
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