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But perhaps there are in us forces other than mind and heart, other even than the senses – mysterious forces which take hold of us in the moments when the others are asleep; and perhaps it was such forces that Melchior had found in the depths of those pale eyes which had looked at him so timidly one evening when he had accosted the girl on the bank of the river, and had sat down beside her in the reeds – without knowing why – and had given her his hand.
