It was Celeste’s idea. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity. Unobserved, she knelt and kissed the threshold: for she knew what kisses were now. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. "Mr.
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