" "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. ” “How could you!” She exclaimed. A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other.
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