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. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. How did you like Tristan?” Ann Veronica paused the fraction of a second before her reply came. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. She sighed with relief. "He wouldn't hurt a rabbit. ’ ‘I still think you ought to have waited, miss. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth.
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