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It seemed at first the most beautiful afternoon of all time to her, and perhaps the thrill of her excitement did add a distinctive and culminating keenness to the day. "Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. He was always visualizing the Hand whenever he let his gaze rest upon the horizon. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. It's a long time since we met, eight years and more. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house.
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