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. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. “No, I am alone,” she answered. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. “I lied, as I would have committed a murder, or done any evil deed sooner than lose you.
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