She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. She was now permitted freely to study the face. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. The wings stopped. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. ” “Shall we go now?” “I think I would like to listen to music.
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