"I mustn't tell you what Thames means to do for you if ever he gains his rights," continued Winifred; "but I may tell you what my father means to do. He has no imagination, no real generosity. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. We must never let your father know we went. But all of that was forgotten. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him.
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