She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. "This is strange," said Jack, under his breath. "'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. But I am here. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river.
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