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 doctor glanced towards Anna. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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