Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. The Ragged Edge.
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