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. . ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. He found that the skiff had been dashed against one of the buttresses of the bridge.
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