Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. Very fascinating, though, trying to analyse the impulse. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha.
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