I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. " Jonathan gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. " "If my dignity must be purchased by the loss of you, I renounce it," cried Thames.
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