“I do not suppose he will be home till late. He might miss at this distance. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. You must have figured that out by now. ‘That is my mother. ” Lucy would always press her face into her mother’s skirts when she heard the ending, no matter how many times she heard it. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. It has come,—and sooner than you expected.
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