Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. In the next place, she really had some pretensions to beauty. Sheppard, fervently. I guess. All these things spoke of peace;—but there are seasons when the pleasantest external influences have a depressing effect on the mind, by painfully recalling past happiness. I loved her so much.
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