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. " "Take care you don't fall into it yourself," returned Jackson, with a slight sneer. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust.
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