But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. “Please forgive me. This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude.
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