’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. “I’ve plenty of pals,” he said, “who, when they’ve been doing Paris on the Q.
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