She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. 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. ” She relented.
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