He seemed like a very intelligent doctor and not at all like a snooty archbishop. A common rage flushed their faces. 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. ‘C’est ridicule. I hung around Harvard a little when you were there.
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