On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. Her mind left her. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII.
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