The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Mr. On the contrary, his glass was never idle, and finding it not filled quite so frequently as he desired, he applied himself, notwithstanding the expressive looks and muttered remonstrances of Mr. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that.
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