I am afraid, Anna, just a little afraid, that in Paris I and my friends here might seem a trifle advanced. ” Ennison had things to say, but he looked at her and held his tongue. 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. And for me there is only one treasure-house.
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