“Well?” she said. E. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. "Not materially, Mr. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. But I'll never part with your irons.
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