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. "Stop!" groaned Blueskin. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling.
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