The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Capes joined the students at tea, and displayed himself in an impish mood that sometimes possessed him. ‘He arst me to find him someone who might go with you. But to plunge blindly into the unknown!" "I had to! I had to!" She had told him only the first part of her story. She wanted to think.
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