I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. She must learn wisdom—as God pleases. ‘I will do so. Maternal relations. She whispered, “Another car is coming,” as lights approached their car. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. —'How so?' says I. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. I wonder if he really wants me to go home.
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