S. They were sharp and dripping with black blood. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. In the matter of his conscience he was primitive; and for an educated man to become primitive is to become something of a child. I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir from home for a week to come.
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