Mike sat down, his body too large for the petite blue couch. "We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he began,—"for I must use the privilege of an old friend, and address you by that familiar name,—we have had a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere. But with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of living would stir even the blood of a clod. I want to be myself.
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