" With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. ” “Young? I am twenty-four. He chuckled. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet.
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