But I trusted to that ring of yours. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country.
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