Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. And, when I have seen him pining away before my eyes, getting thinner and thinner every day, I have sometimes thought my prayers were heard. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love.
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