She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. It was an uproarious affair, for Rollo now knew that he had been grieviously betrayed: they were trying to kill him in a new way.
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