But at the word “home” she turned again. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. It’s made up of things as small as the diameter of hairs and big as life and death. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. 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. " "Good news will be news to me.
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