“I’m not so sure. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. ” Anna laughed, and went back to her easy chair. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms.
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