I believe I am doomed to be an old maid. I knew it. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair.
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