She crept out of the shadows. Knew something was up. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. And Anna was conscious of a few moments of exquisite emotion.
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