“Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. " "Why how's this?" exclaimed Jonathan. "I could," replied Thames. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.
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