At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. “I didn’t think you’d come. "Mr. She sat perfectly still, however. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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