"Who's there?" cried Rachel. " "How?" exclaimed the other. " And then his interest would cease. In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. . It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. ’ The sharp eyes twinkled. Too much, perhaps.
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