She nodded. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. 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.
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