This Joan would hold them for a little. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. Under happier circumstances nothing would have given me more pleasure than to have offered you a home with your sister. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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