"What the devil are you howling about?" cried Langley. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms.
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