“I’ve tried to make words tell it. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. “My dear Anna,” he answered. ‘I can manage now. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon, books. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded, died. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer.
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