The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. . I’ve accustomed myself to think of you— as if you were like every other girl who works at the schools—as something quite outside these possibilities. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it.
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