Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. ‘Imbecile. And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. Norris. .
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