A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips. You’re mine. In one of these seats, at the end of the aisle farthest removed from the chancel, the widow took her place, and addressed herself fervently to her devotions. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent.
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