. The fire still burned brightly. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. I thought every one had heard about it. “You pushed the wheel from my hand. ‘Trespasses,’ supplied Gerald. There was no one else in the doorway. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. You are the woman I love, Anna.
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