And what was singular she did not recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. She was given a glimpse of his soul. 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. I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her.
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