The reward is mine. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. ” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. It melted her heart. “You are a thousand times more beautiful,” he said, “than anything else could be. A sinister thought edged in.
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