" "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black. But I don’t want to. ” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt. “It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her. ‘For instance, why have you reverted to your nun’s habit for this particular adventure?’ ‘That is easy. 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.
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