There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. It’s a thing that’s happened to you. Another horseman followed quickly at the heels of the first; but just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his steed missed its footing, and fell. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys.
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