She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. The boat's sure to run foul o' the bridge; and if she 'scapes stavin' above, she'll be swamped to a sartainty below. " "I am a thief, nevertheless. "To those who, like me, have never been able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach it the better. " "Why, my love," rejoined her husband, "appearances, you must allow, were a little against you. In the pause she realized the attention of the others converged upon her, and that the tears were brimming over her eyes. .
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