"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. F. \" She replied. “Shari told me. “Admirably, thank you,” Anna answered. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. Love is a great thing, and happiness a joy. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it.
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