From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. I believe that I have heard my sister speak of you. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome.
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