“Of course. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. I packed them with the other few things I owned. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. Selfishness. " "The very face," exclaimed Gay, advancing to look at it;—"with all the escapes written in it. “One moment, if you please!” She stopped short and looked round.
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