“You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. Small blame to her. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. Little by little, she stopped hating him. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds. Every one has to make a deal with the world. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I.
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