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210
what's o'clock
White paper with ink upon it may be taken for such, I opine.
But the letter, being without superscription, could hardly be considered mine.
On the whole, I preferred to leave it untouched and preserve the nicety of my honour.
(Positively I thought I heard a giggle from the lips of the Botticelli Madonna
On the chimney-breast; but that was solely her affair.)
I was a poltroon maybe, or wise with a wisdom which haunted the air,
Coquettish reserve, that was it, but brazen armour could have stayed me less.
Ah, Madame, did I obey your desire, or possibly disobey it ruthlessly? I confess
I never became aware of your attitude, for I tiptoed to the door,
And left the room which had caught your trick of smiling.