So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. Brendon. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure.
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