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. The Night-Cellar XVIII. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero. ” She replied weakly.
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