" And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again. Neither would she allow herself to feel guilty nor would she allow him to find a way into the house. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. It was everyone's favorite meal. They are long gone.
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