Perhaps it was loneliness. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. Two persons possessing a more comfortable stock of assurance could not be readily found. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. What'll we call him—Rollo?"—ironically. That had shut him up for a while.
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