A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. In length the arch exceeded seventy feet. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold.
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