“Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. Strange, I could never learn her history. It must be sent home this evening. . There were two of them. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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