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. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. Ever hear of the djinn in the bottle? Like enough. The boy was all conscience, and he suffered through this conscience to such lengths that the law would be impotent to add anything.
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