She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. ” She shook her head. There must be persons tender and loving in this world. ‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes.
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