"So I have," replied Hogarth, glancing at Sheppard. 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 saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality. Oh, they are married fast.
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