Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. 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.
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