” She sat quite still looking at him. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. Father— dead. " All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly.
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