She understood. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. Neither would she allow herself to feel guilty nor would she allow him to find a way into the house. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. “Not a bit. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting.
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