“Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power. 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. Even now she was dazed. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. In those revolutionary times one had to be prepared. Decidedly this was imbecile. Folks don’t like ’em.
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