F. The air was crisp and dry. This is a mere boy. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others.
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