’ Gerald frowned. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him.
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