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It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult
to know it has begun. A thousand heralds proclaim it to the listening
air, a thousand messengers betray it to the eye. Tone, act, attitude
and look, the signals upon the countenance, the electric telegraph
of touch - all these betray the yielding citadel before the word itself
is uttered, which, like the key surrendered, opens every avenue and
gate of entrance, and renders retreat impossible.
