The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. The wine was sweetened with cinnamon and cloves and rare edible flowers, which her father had instructed her not to drink excessively of. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. You are my wife now and you belong to me.
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