She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Mirrors. As he approached the gable of Mrs. He chuckled.
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