"Get up, mother," cried Jack; "do not kneel to him. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Manning; and repeated, “a sort of history.
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