The chair is in the veranda. ‘It is nothing. She must weigh her situation. My Mom and Dad were on the brink of divorce, what else is new, they still are. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. "And now," said Thames, (for we must still preserve the name,) "you will no longer defer my happiness.
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