The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. . A live man. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. Ran in the family. “It was very tiring.
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