" On leaving Mr. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds. You're a queer lad. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. . "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. She looked at him mournfully. . He seemed to have shrunken in his seat.
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