But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. ” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. Just let him down easy, Lucy.
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