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. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. " "Death and the devil! what a cursed interruption!" cried Jack, impatiently.
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