To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. Afterwards, it may be different. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. "I shall do no such thing. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings.
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