How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. Here's a couple in hand. There was a man, a boy, and a woman. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies.
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