The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. ’ The door opened and Saling entered again. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. I awaken easily. “You told me that your name was Meysey Hill. " "Robbed him!" screamed the widow.
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