” “I will tell her,” Anna promised. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. “I was lonely. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. You will be—my wife. Clean water. Then the distant relationship to Miss Stanley gave them a slight but pleasant sense of proprietorship in the girl.
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