He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold.
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