” She became aware of her aunt, through the panes of the greenhouse, advancing with an air of serene unconsciousness from among the raspberry canes. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. John knew better. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. I'm not particular what or where. "Right," said the Master, "I didn't think of her.
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