He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. ToC Thames Darrell's fears were not, however, groundless.
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