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XVII. Under the Loggia

seemed all one with the light and the warmth. You have never known that happiness of the nymphs, my Romola.”

“No; but I have dreamed of it often since you came. I am very thirsty for a deep draught of joy⁠—for a life all bright like you. But we will not think of it now, Tito; it seems to me as if there would always be pale sad faces among the flowers, and eyes that look in vain. Let us go.”

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