They had their little dreams about her. " "I tell you what, Jack," said Gay, "I've several urgent engagements this morning; but I'll return to-morrow, and hear the rest of your story. “Oh, you know,” she said. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face.
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