Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. That is so like you, Diana—Pallas Athene! (Pallas Athene is better. Lost from all protection, all her family dead—as are mine.
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