She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. ” “She does it magnificently,” he declared. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence.
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