It is difficult to express these things. “But you must forgive me, John. 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. "Who's there?" cried Rachel. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs.
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