Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. 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. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly.
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