Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. ‘I did not send you a card because in the normal way of things you rarely attend such affairs. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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