” He stood quite silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon her face. For the sort of love-making you think about. You get the idea. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. " "Are you sure of that?" returned Winifred, looking uneasily at Jack. 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. Her body went into spasm. The window was shortly after opened, and a rope ladder, with a lighted horn lantern attached to it, let down.
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