This lady is my wife, and I have a right to be here. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. 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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