"Shall I fetch it for you, Sir?" "By all means. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. "Children," said the aunt, first to awake, "be young fools as long as God will permit you. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. I thought that he was dead. She came to me in a dream. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. I gather you wish to go up in some fantastic get-up, wrapped about in your opera cloak, and that after the festivities you propose to stay with these friends of yours, and without any older people in your party, at an hotel. I even offered him back the half interest he had sold to me. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine.
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