” “It was exceedingly wrong of you,” Anna declared. I wanted to have something to give up. ” Ennison took an easy chair. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. ” “You have her face and figure,” he muttered. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. " This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy.
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