The man is a stranger to me. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ” “It ought to make one happy. Look somewhere else in life. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. " "Palliate them as you may," replied the widow, gravely, "they were faults; and as such, cannot be repaired by a greater wrong. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated.
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