From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. ‘Knowed it the instant I set eyes on her. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light. There are way-stations—even terminals. The significance of the kiss was still obscure to her, though she had frequently encountered the word and act in the Old and New Testaments and latterly in novels. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil.
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