“I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks. “I have been bearing this—for your sake. 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. ” Their eyes met for a moment. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer.
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