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 could not keep away any longer. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. " "Hear me, Madam, I beseech you," interposed Mrs. Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence.
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