All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. It is abominable—” “What is the use of keeping up this note of indignation, Ann Veronica? Here I am! I am your lover, burning for you. “How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered.
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