. . “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. "But the past is irremediable, and I did not come hither to exculpate myself, I came to save your life," he added, turning to Thames. She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous.
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