“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. She told me the tale the other night, and I've only elaborated it. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. " "Let me go," implored Mrs. He had deliberately saved it for last. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly.
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