’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak.
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