[The Celt and Saxon by George Meredith]@TWC D-Link book
The Celt and Saxon

CHAPTER XVII
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He was beginning to fancy that he felt the warmth of spring sunshine on his back.

He flung up his head and sniffed the air, and was very like a horse fretful for the canter; so like as to give Miss Kathleen an idea of the comparison.

She could have rallied him; her laughing eyes showed the readiness, but she forbore, she drank the scene.

Her face, with the threaded locks about forehead and cheeks, and the dark, the blue, the rosy red of her lips, her eyes, her hair, was just such a south-western sky as April drove above her, the same in colour and quickness; and much of her spirit was the same, enough to stand for a resemblance.

But who describes the spirit?
No one at the gates of the field of youth.


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