Arthur Stringer,
The Anatomy of Love — Chapter1
(1916)
“ And some of those voices were the voices of young women. It was the old, the never-ending game. It made Macraven's thoughts go back to his own youth, to other nights of quiet moonlight, when he had leaned from a window in Oxford and heard much the same music and, across the level Magdalen lawns, had listened to much the same light and happy voices. And still later, in Heidelberg, he had often enough looked out on the same moonlight, on the same odorous beauty of earth and air, on the same unphilosophizing call of youth to youth. ”
