“I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. And it hampers us.
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