"What poet was that?" "Stevenson. “If they matter to you, they matter. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. He stood away from her. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. You need not tell me, but a lawyer is different. Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the room. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband.
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