In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. Rollo barked. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. She infused menace into her voice. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam.
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