” “I’m sorry. It is the vapouring school girl. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. “I think she would,” she decided. Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. \" She said, and they walked down the pebble stone path designed for joggers and bikers.
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