‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. He seemed to know a great deal about life. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. I will dedicate my books to you. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. 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. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf.
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