She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. It makes me desire life beyond measure. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. But for him——” Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck.
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