” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months. "Then you need no further information from me," rejoined Jackson, sternly. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. The simile started a laugh in his throat. . "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. I demand it as a right. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. "As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence declared.
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