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. . Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. ” “Nice clean hardness, anyhow. Hilary could not have suggested such a thing. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin.
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