But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. “My Mom was a good lady. I want to make my own selection. She was consumed by misery and hate. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. "Often.
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