The girl, with a little moan, crossed the room and threw open the window. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. "I have something further to tell you," pursued Winifred. “Kindly explain it to me.
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