“Very well,” she would say, “then I must go. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. It'll be your turn to save mine next. Spiders came out of their hiding places to commune in windows, industriously spinning their own designs over the stained glass. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders.
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