” She replied. She thought her niece very hard and very self-possessed and self-confident. Or else he was indeed obsessed. I’m fine. At once there came an answering knock. But perhaps he was right not to tell you the truth. Kind of knows it, too. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ” She nodded in the affirmative.
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