. ” He drew a little nearer to her. ‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me. To—to find myself. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. ‘Come inside at once, child. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image.
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