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He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. ‘It weren’t my wish, miss, I can tell you that. 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. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. ” For a moment or two he did not speak.
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