"Be it as you please," replied Winifred. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. Vorsack looked pale and pink. ‘Yes, I know. “Number 13, please, cabman. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. “Really it is very kind of you to have found me out. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world.
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