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. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. ‘I think that was what began his downfall. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes.
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