IN MAREMMA.
175
another moment it floated buoyant and borne up by the water.
He sprang over its side, and plunged the blades of the oars in the sea.
The breeze that comes a thousand miles in a breath blew a scent of orange-flowers from the woods high above in the north.
His nostrils drew in with delight the sweet familiar scent; his lips laughed; his heart rose; he set the head of his boat northward, and rowed straight for where the orange-trees grew, and ran down to the sea and kissed it.
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