"My sight is failing me. He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. It’s not you—not a bit. In your heart you know very well that this is absurd. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. She was trembling a little. You are wholly in my power. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things.
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