“It’s his birthday. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. "You can no longer refuse to tell me the name of this youth's father, Aliva," he said. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. Then for a time she sat very still.
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