The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. "But if you do not find this aunt, what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against hunger?" "I'll find something. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather.
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