She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding.
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