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But the perfection of his triumph, he dimly felt, was somehow marred by the presence of this girl. She aroused the man in him, appealing strongly to his passions, and in that hour he would fain have been only a god.
Yet somewhere, deep down in him, there was set stirring a secret, intimate joy that she was no Deva, but a woman, and that he, though a demigod, was still a man.
