“I don’t mean simply intensity of sensation. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. He listened to the thunder of the fall now mingling with the roar of the blast; and, driven almost frantic by what he heard and saw, he pushed with all his force against the stone. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. I love your very breath. That's one of the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously. I have done from the first moment I saw you.
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