"If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. The evenings were dulcet and soft. ‘Me also I do not recall them. Quilt was not long in following his example. It was locked. Not content with this exhibition of her prowess, the Amazon lifted him up as easily as if he had been an infant, and placed him upon her shoulders, to the infinite delight of the company, and the increased distress of his mother. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object.
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