"The key," replied the widow. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. “I think they do. You never can go back. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition.
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