“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. “No, it was simple. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. There was a little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. “The aces made it easy. “You could have told me about it, Michelle. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
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