In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. I wonder what it was. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was.
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