When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. “You don’t want to go?” “No. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. ” He stated. I took him out of the hands of death. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. The chapel was crowded to excess.
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