Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. We struggle against it at first, but in the end we have to submit. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. . “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches.
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