Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. 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. ‘You are there. She wanted to go to Cornell University to study Anthropology, that was her 183 dream.
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